You probably thought I would not get this far

You thought I would end up living in the back of a car

You probably thought I would never escape

I’d be a rat in a cage

I’d be a slave to this place

You don’t know how hard I have fought to survive

Waking up alone when I was meant to die

You don’t know about this life I have lived

All the roads I have walked

All the tears I have bled

People know my name

But they don’t know the story

Their opinions carry little weight with me

I’m not the same soul I once was

A lot has changed

A lot had to change

So, you should not expect out of me what I embodied in the past

Because I have found impossible was God’s specialty

I am learning to love the sound of my feet

Walking away from things not meant for me.

And, letting the light from the bridges I burn illuminate my new way.

Once upon a time

Somewhere along the way

My soul got lost and

My spirit ran away

It was so long ago but

I remember it so well

My downward spiral

Descending into hell

Once upon a time

Somewhere along the way

I woke up to myself and

I knew I had to change

I knew I had

I knew I had

I knew I had to change

Here I am today happy healthy clean

Grateful for the light it got me

Where I’m meant to be

Where I’m meant to

Where I’m meant to

Where I am meant to be

I AM YOUR DISEASE

Allow me to introduce myself, sly, unsolved and controlling. AND, I am exactly what they say I am, “cunning, baffling and powerful”, that’s me. I am the disease of, addiction. AND to all that come into contact with me, I wish you dead.

I love to catch you with the element of surprise. I love pretending I am your friend or, lover. Don’t you remember, I whispered to you, “I have given you comfort, have I not? Wasn’t I there when you were lonely? When you wanted to die, didn’t you call me…?”

That’s right – and, I was there.

With my sadistic nature, I let you see my face. I love to make you hurt. I love to make you cry. Better yet, I love to make you so numb you can neither hurt nor cry. AND, when you can’t feel anything at all; this is true magnificence. ALL of this you were “okay” with.

When things were not going right in your life, you invited me right in. I gave you instant gratifications, and all that I ask of you is – long-term misery. You said you did not deserve these wholesome things, and I was the only one who would agree with you! But, together, we were able to destroy it all. And I was the only one strong enough to stand with you through it!

Yes, I am your hated disease, and yet, I do not come uninvited. You chose to have me. As my work will speak for itself, so many have chosen me over – peace serenity and, reality. And yet, people don’t take me seriously. They take strokes, heart attaches, even diabetes they take, seriously. Fools they are, they do not know that without my help, many of these things would not even be made, possible. On this subject I feel a little unappreciated!

Oh, and I got a secret for you. Although, more than you hate me – I hate all of you. When you gather around your, twelve-steps, that I would rather drag you down. And your meetings, with your Higher Power, that’s the best you got to weaken me…? To cage me within, trinity – so I can’t function in a manner I am habituate to?

You living? Me, only existing? So, that’s how it is. I must lie here, quietly. You won’t see me, but I will be growing, grander than ever – I am here. And, until we meet again IF we meet again, I wish you only one thing. I wish you dead.

Dear Addict Haters,

Hello, you don’t know me but I am an addict. I am one of the “junkies” you love to bash whenever someone mentions addiction on social media or hear it in conversation.

I know it’s hard to forgive the things we sometimes do because of our addiction, but I have a question for you. What is the worst thing you have ever done? Obviously, I won’t get an answer to this question but, think about it. The thing that you hate that you did. You know, that one thing that not too many people even know about. Well, what if everyone knew about it? What if, for the rest of your life you were labeled by that one act that you would erase in a second if you had the chance? That is what being an addict is like, kind of.

Now, I don’t feel like being an addict is the worst thing a person can be or do. You, however, feel like it’s a terrible thing. Don’t get me wrong, if I could erase it from my life, I would. In an instant, it would be gone, but I don’t have that option. I can’t even do what you do and pretend that this thing I did didn’t happen. In order for me to ensure it never happens again, I have to work hard on making sure it doesn’t. If I don’t, my disease will tell me I can have a drink or do a line and not fall back into full-blown addiction.

Because I will.

Do you work hard to make sure your worst thing never happens again? Let me guess… you are thinking, addiction is not a disease. It’s a choice. Right? Yes, all addiction starts with a choice. The same choice you made when you were young and hanging out with friends. You drank the same beer I drank. The same weed I smoked. You even tried the same line of powder someone put in front of you at a party. You were able to walk away and not take it to the extreme.

Since I have the disease, I will spend the rest of my life either struggling to stay high or fighting to stay clean.

As children, we don’t decide we would rather be an addict instead of a cop. You don’t see children pretending that their dolls and stuffed animals are dope sick. When is the last time you talked to a little girl who told you she couldn’t wait to grow up so she could turn tricks to feed the insatiable hunger of her drug addiction?

My sister didn’t tell me about her exciting plans to become homeless. My dad, not one time, told my mother to think twice before marrying him because he had high hopes of becoming an angry drunk. I damn sure didn’t blow out my candles as a child wishing for a substance abuse disorder because I couldn’t wait for the day my beautiful daughters were taken from me by CPS.

Nobody wants to have substance use disorder. However, some of us just do.

So, always remember, you made those same choices, too. You just got lucky that it was me and not you.

If you still have doubts, you can take those up with the Center for Disease Control or The United States Surgeon General. They have classified addiction as a disease, but then again… I am sure you know more about it than they do, right?

I pray that you don’t have to reevaluate these opinions because, you find out your child or parent is an addict. If you do, just know that we will accept you into our community. We will help your loved one. Do you know why we would do that? Because we are good people who just want the chance to live like everyone else.

So, please, before you write another post bashing people who are suffering, think about it. Not only are you hurting the people who have the disease, you could be hurting everyone that loves them. You have people on your friends list or someone might overhear you at work who have children suffering right this moment from addiction. What did they do to deserve the awful things you put out into the universe that do nothing but perpetuate hate and judgment? You have a right to your opinion. But no matter what, hurting people is wrong.

~Author Unknown

One day at a time. It sounds so cliché, right?

Recovery is a decision, not a negotiation. You don’t negotiate with this disease – you either recover from it or you don’t. The decision to be free from addiction and stay away from it expires in exactly, twenty-four hours. Every day, we need to make this decision over again.

This can ALSO be defined as an act of, hope. That ability to foresee something that cannot be seen, but is able to be held with our heart every step of the way till we get there. It is here we acknowledge we are not promised tomorrow, but given this chance, today.

She cried for you…

Spare your mom, get clean – she cries for you.

On the day you were born the tears streamed down her face and your dad cut the cord, she cried for you.

As she watched you sleep wondering how this baby is so perfect how did you come to me, she cried for you.

When you got your first tooth and she knew your jaw hurt but, she didn’t know what to do, she cried for you.

When you fell, and scraped your knee and it was the first time she saw you bleed, she cried for you.

When you punched your bedroom door because she didn’t want you to go to that party and drink, anymore, she cried for you.

When your first love said, he wanted a break, and she only wanted to hold you – because she knew heartache, she cried for you.

When you won your first game and she ran out to greet you with tears on her face, she cried for you.

When she saw the pokes in your arm and she called you every day asking where you were – but you got distant and you didn’t hear her cries, she cried for you.

When you told her, “Mom stop worrying, stop saying I’m high”, she cried for you.

When you came to dinner and you were high and the baby she once held seemed empty inside, she cried for you.

And she begged you to get help when you left town for two weeks and nearly killed yourself, she cried for you.

When you asked her for money and she told you no – and you said, “I know you don’t love me anymore”, she cried for you.

At the alter in church, pleading with God to save you so that it just wouldn’t hurt, she cried for you.

When she begged you to stop saying, “I want my baby back so I can just be her mom”, she cried for you.

When she got, that call saying, “We are sorry but your baby is gone”, she cried for you.

Laying in the fetal position screaming out your name, cursing your addiction, she cried for you.

When she went to identify your body, she said, “Baby I’m here, baby it’s me, its mommy”, she cried for you.

When she kissed, your cold blue face thinking, if I had done something different – it wouldn’t be this way, she cried for you.

When she chose your funeral clothes and contemplated suicide so you wouldn’t feel alone, she cried for you.

When they laid you in your grave and she slept on your headstone for three days, she cried for you.

Holding a piece of your hair and your picture wondering where you are and if you miss her too, she cried for you.

Laying on your blankets in your bed to try to comfort herself by, smelling your scent, she cried for you.

Remembering when you first looked at her, remembering the touch of your hair and how it curled, she cried for you.

Wishing she could go back in time – blaming herself ‘cause you got high, she cried for you.

For the rest of her days because, the end of your life is her lifetime of pain, she thinks if only I could go back – if only I could fix this. She cries over her baby she lost to, addiction.